


You Weren't There

by Notebooknote



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Gen, Hospitals, during-war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-13 01:51:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/818567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notebooknote/pseuds/Notebooknote
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were different places, different circles of hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Weren't There

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! This was prompted to me by Upottery. (During-War, Liebgott/Webster, fighting) I dunno how well this works out, since I've never really written these two (or fighting). I also added in mentions of Babe and Bill. And I'm taking out liberties with the portrayal of hospitals in this. Takes place during The Last Patrol.
> 
> I mean no disrespect. I apologize for inaccuracies.

_Who the fuck does he think he is?_

"Hey Webster. Enjoy that hospital?"  
"Missin' the warmth of your bed, Web?"  
"Been a long time since you got a shower, huh?"

He'd just gotten back to the line, back to his boys, his friends. Sure, he joined them after D-Day, but he still made that jump. The other guys weren't mean to him then, what was so different from now? _Right, the hospital._ Like that should have mattered. _I'm of more use to them if I'm fully recovered._ He always did that. He reasoned with himself as much as he did with the others. He'd tell them he didn't know how to get back to them. He'd tell himself that they didn't understand, they went through a frozen hell. He'd reply with something, not showing his true feelings, save for the little hurt in his eyes. If only he could go back to laughing with Bill about "Dear Babe Letters" ( _Naw. He got hit_ ) or poking a bit of fun with the replacements. Now, it was he who was the replacement.

\-----

They had just gotten out of the briefing. David had just gotten Liebgott out of the patrol. There was a wink, then a comment. There was a quiet moment and then it started.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I was about to ask the same thing."

"Why do you keep giving me so much shit? I came back still, didn't I? I came back to you guys."

"Quiet ol' Web can't take the heat. Maybe Baby West Point could bring you back to that hospital."

David Webster, usually quiet like Liebgott had just said, a kind, gentle, positive soldier, closed the gap between their two bodies in three strong steps. He pinned Joe to the wall behind, arm across his neck. Web could take the heat. That's all he had been doing. He had fire in his eyes and he'd spent so much of his energy trying to satiate it and not let it burn through his soul.

"You don't understand. You weren't there." 

His teeth were clenched. This made Joe mad. He started to move under Web and managed to push him off. They struggled and Liebgott got the upper hand, pushing Webster against the same wall he was previously on. There were a few other guys standing around them, now. 

"Like you weren't there for Bastogne. Didn't see your buddies blow up in your face. Didn't see the trees explode. Didn't see any of it." 

"I saw enough." At this, Joe released the pressure on his chest. There was a catch in his voice.

"Maybe I didn't see it happen, but I saw what came after. I saw just as many bodies as you did. I saw just as many broken soldiers, just as many dead. Maybe I didn't see Bill or Joe come back without legs, but I saw people without arms, legs, souls. That place was hell. It was a different hell. You had artillery, exploding trees, screams for medic. I had groans in the night, another one letting go, doctors proclaiming another one they couldn't save, another one that had gone on. I heard screams, too. I had the aftermath. I had everything you didn't see because they shipped them off the line, right to where I was. Yeah, I didn't know every one that passed through, but I knew enough.

"Do you understand how hard it was to go to rehabilitation and watch these strong guys reduced to a mess? All those men, ghosts of themselves. How about the replacement depo? All those fresh faces, ready to face the world. I knew what they were going into. I knew that a lot of them wouldn't make it back. I knew just how hard it is, how crushing this war is, how hard your heart can get."

There were tears in his eyes. He didn't say everything, but it was enough. Joe let go of him completely and turned around. He slowly stalked off, absorbing what he had just heard, leaving Webster against the wall, still surrounded by the spectators. David couldn't stop himself from sliding down the wall or the tears that started sliding down his cheeks. Slowly, everyone else started to leave, too, mumbling something about getting rid of the shine on their guns. All but one. Babe Heffron knelt down beside him. Babe had talked to Bill in a foxhole back in Bastogne and finally understood what he had said about those places of healing. They change people. You see things that are just as bad there as you did on the line. They were two places, two things you couldn't really compare, but in their own ways, they were different circles of hell.


End file.
